The time has come to reveal how I did over the past week achieving my writing goals. For those of you just tuning in, here's what I pledged to accomplish:
LAST WEEK'S GOAL: Edit in short bursts to limit strain on elbows – specifically, edit for 30 minutes at a time, twice per day, Thursday through Monday.
LAST WEEK'S GOAL: Edit in short bursts to limit strain on elbows – specifically, edit for 30 minutes at a time, twice per day, Thursday through Monday.
RESULT:
It seems like the goal I set should have been completely attainable, but alas it was not. At least not for me. Or should I say, not for me and my demons.
DEMONS: Remember eMal, my email demon? He paid me another visit. Specifically, he came a-callin’ each and every morning this week when I was supposed to be writing. I thought I could take a quick look at email first thing when I woke up—you know, just to make sure no fires had started in the night—then smoothly and gracefully transition to editing my novel. You can guess where this is going. Apparently opening email is like opening a bag of chips: you can’t stop after only one. Or maybe that’s just me. Regardless, eMal and I ran away together every morning, and kept running well into the afternoon and evening. We were like two lovers who lose track of time in each other’s company, only a lot less romantic.
To compound matters, eMal wasn’t the only demon circling my psyche this week. I was also haunted by a demon I’ll call Bruce who outright ridiculed my goal of writing for 30 minutes at a time. Whenever I’d think about getting down to business, Bruce would whisper insidiously, “Thirty minutes? That’s not enough time to get into the story. It won’t make any difference, so why bother?” And silly me, I believed him more often than not. You see, I’m a “binge” writer. I prefer to immerse myself in my story for days on end, only coming up for air when forced. This has been my way for as long as I’ve been writing, and old habits die hard. Die Hard. Bruce. As in Willis. Get it?
This week I also became reacquainted with a tiny but powerful demon I first met when dieting years ago. I call her Snickerdoodle because when I’d break my diet and have a cookie, she’d say, “You’ve already blown it for today. You can’t undo it, so you might as well have another. In fact, eat the whole bag and start your diet tomorrow.” With regard to my writing goals, Snick and the others teamed up to give me the one-two punch—after eMal or Bruce derailed me from editing for 30 minutes in the morning, Snick sneaked in and persuaded me not to even try for second round.
Tuesday morning I guiltily entered the confessional, I mean I attended my weekly “check-in” to report how I did on my goals. It wasn’t my proudest moment. I had no idea how to answer the questions “why didn’t you meet your goals?” and “how can you do better this week?”
Tuesday morning I guiltily entered the confessional, I mean I attended my weekly “check-in” to report how I did on my goals. It wasn’t my proudest moment. I had no idea how to answer the questions “why didn’t you meet your goals?” and “how can you do better this week?”
DIGGING IN: After the check-in, I “dug in” with my mentor to try to determine what had gotten in the way of my success. I dredged up my demons, feeling like they were legitimate excuses for my shortcomings, but at the same time feeling ashamed of my failure. I failed because of who I am. After all, these demons are part of me—manifestations of my fears, residue from past traumas, and damning evidence of dietary cheating. “How can I be any different?” I thought.
That’s when another demon reared her ugly head: Fatalism. Fay for short. “I’ll never break these habits,” I told my mentor, channeling Fay. “It’s hopeless. My novel will never be published. My only literary legacy will be a massive volume of email.”
That’s when another demon reared her ugly head: Fatalism. Fay for short. “I’ll never break these habits,” I told my mentor, channeling Fay. “It’s hopeless. My novel will never be published. My only literary legacy will be a massive volume of email.”
GOING FORWARD: And so I gave up on my writing dreams. My mentor rode away into the sunset on a gleaming motorcycle paid for with royalties, and I returned to my dungeon to live out my days writing email after email, with my personal demons as my only company.
If this were a theme-heavy, cautionary parable meant to provoke deep thought and meaningful discussion, perhaps that’s how it would end. But I don’t write that kind of story. Nor the kind where demons win. Besides, my mentor wouldn’t give up on me that easily.
The real story is that my mentor asked me to reflect on a time when I had been successful meeting a goal. I recalled that just three weeks ago I'd strutted around this blog after meeting my writing goals. So what was different that week?
What had kept eMal, Bruce and Snickerdoodle at bay?
If this were a theme-heavy, cautionary parable meant to provoke deep thought and meaningful discussion, perhaps that’s how it would end. But I don’t write that kind of story. Nor the kind where demons win. Besides, my mentor wouldn’t give up on me that easily.
The real story is that my mentor asked me to reflect on a time when I had been successful meeting a goal. I recalled that just three weeks ago I'd strutted around this blog after meeting my writing goals. So what was different that week?
What had kept eMal, Bruce and Snickerdoodle at bay?
Here’s what I think made the difference:
1. A product-based goal (i.e. edit 50 pages) rather than a time-based goal (i.e. 30 minutes)
2. Daily goals in addition to a weekly goal
3. A promise to myself to finish the daily goal before going to sleep for the night
“So revise this week’s plan to reflect that,” my mentor said. “And in addition, have you thought about rewarding yourself for good behavior? Even demon-riddled prisoners in deep, dark dungeons have that to strive for.”
Hmm. This sounds like good advice. “I’ll try it,” I said.
1. A product-based goal (i.e. edit 50 pages) rather than a time-based goal (i.e. 30 minutes)
2. Daily goals in addition to a weekly goal
3. A promise to myself to finish the daily goal before going to sleep for the night
“So revise this week’s plan to reflect that,” my mentor said. “And in addition, have you thought about rewarding yourself for good behavior? Even demon-riddled prisoners in deep, dark dungeons have that to strive for.”
Hmm. This sounds like good advice. “I’ll try it,” I said.
THIS WEEK'S GOAL: Revise outline to reflect recent changes to storyline, and complete revisions on 5 chapters.
PLAN FOR SUCCESS:
Divide weekly goals into specific, measurable daily goals:
Wednesday – revise outline
Thursday through Monday – revise one chapter per day
Write each morning for two hours or until achieving daily goal, whichever comes first.
Don’t go to sleep for the night until meeting daily goal.
When goal is met, reward self with a little TV-time with the family.
So take that, eMal. Piss off, Fay. Hasta la vista, Snickerdoodle.
And Bruce?
All I have to say to you is:
Divide weekly goals into specific, measurable daily goals:
Wednesday – revise outline
Thursday through Monday – revise one chapter per day
Write each morning for two hours or until achieving daily goal, whichever comes first.
Don’t go to sleep for the night until meeting daily goal.
When goal is met, reward self with a little TV-time with the family.
So take that, eMal. Piss off, Fay. Hasta la vista, Snickerdoodle.
And Bruce?
All I have to say to you is:
Yippee-ki-yay, mother-fracker.
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